The Chaos
by Kajakitty
Summary: *one shot idea, might continue depending on feedback* When a girl meets the Master, now known as Harold Saxon, in a dark alleyway meters away from her university, her life turns. But is it for the better, or for the worse? Will her worst nightmares haunt her, or her dreams come true? Slight AU Rated M for language/suggested abuse/violence


I wrote this entirely on my phone, so excuse any mistakes in Capitalisation or basic grammar, autocorrect is a bitch Haha!

Though this is written as more of a one shot, I do have ideas on continuing this, but I'm not sure if I should, so thoughts/favs/follows would be a great way to let me know if you like it!

 _Enjoy_

I had always considered myself a strong person. Maybe not physically, but emotionally and mentally by all means.

"I don't bow down to anyone", I remember saying that to my boyfriend. Or was he my ex now? Surely he'd understand the situation.

"there is always that one person that'll make you bow" he retorted. We were arguing about who of us was stronger, the stubborn, hotheaded woman, or the skeptical, analytical man. Neither of us agreed, so we decided to accept each others views. Perhaps I was naive then, believing I was stronger than most. Or maybe I was just inexperienced.

So when I found myself on my knees, fist on heart and head down on the street a few blocks down from my university, I surprised myself. The conversation still ringing in my head, my brain willing my body to get its shit together, but something interfered between my brain and my muscles. I felt the wall, if I concentrated I might even have seen it in front of my closed eyes.

"I will stand by your side" I heard myself mutter.

"louder" the commanding voice rang again, my entire body jerking at the sound of disapproval from the man. Was I disappointed that he didn't accept my offer? That can't be.

"I will remain by your side" I say, louder, my voice taking on an edge of certainty. Would I? I didn't want to, I know I didn't. But still I said it.

"good" the male voice said. The wave of relief was quickly replaced by disgust. How had this man made me, ME, kneel? How had he made ME pledge him allegiance?

"rise" he commanded again, and as if waiting for the voice my body rose, much to my dismay.

I was trapped in my own body. My eyes opened despite my begging them not to, the wall unfaltering. The blond man in front of me was wearing a knowing smirk, he knew he had control over me.

Jerk, I thought to myself, utter bloody jerk.

"will you behave yourself if I release you?"

No, I retort in my mind, but force myself to nod anyways, it taking a lot more energy than it really ever should. He raises an eyebrow, and I can't tell if it's meant to be impressed or merely questioning, so I take both meanings, safest bet, right?

Just as I'm about to start analysing the facial expression of the man in front of me, my brain explodes.

Well, not literally, that'd be a bit messy. Needles being punctured right behind my eyes, that's the best way to describe the pain I suppose. And someone taking a sledge hammer to my skull. Pressure building up, my ears ring in an desperate attempt to warn me, much too late. My hands fly to them, attempting to silence the sledgehammer beating out a quick rhythm. However, it's gone as fast as it appeared, the pain, the ringing, the hammer, the beat. I open my eyes slowly, how come it's so bright now? It was overcast a second ago. Blinking several times I see concrete, then my shoes, significantly closer than they should be. I lift my hands off my ears, the wind and birds quickly invade the temporary silence I had created.

Cautiously I start rising up again, and my knees clicking as usual.

"what's your name" I hear asked above my head. Shaking my head I rise to my full height, an unimpressive 5"4 and 3/4. The blond still looks at me, brow quirked, lips in a smirk, and I still can't tell if he's impressed, or merely thinking. Maybe neither, maybe that's his default face.

"You're to answer when I ask you something" his smirk falters, ever so slightly, annoyance showing through for a split second, but I catch it. His eyebrow however does not rise again.

"Kat" I reply.

"Kat." he tests, "did your parents hate you?" he seems proud of his childish retort.

"yes" again, he quirks his right eyebrow.

"good" he says, and turns on his heel.

What am I to do? Follow? I consider running, he has his back to me, and I'm not a bad runner. I dont do it often, but I'd wager I could outrun him. I can kick, and its not that different, right?

"don't even think about it" he calls nonchalantly over his shoulder, not even slowing down. I throw another longing look at the opposite direction, a relatively busy road, if I could run and scream, someone was sure to help, right? But something told me it's better not to try, he had just made me kneel somehow, controlled my body. I push off the ground, jogging towards his retreating back, and come to a walk behind him. Where was he going? Letting myself glance at his face, a smug smile etched into his features, I regret it immediately. I dont want to know where he's going, but something makes me want to follow him.

He leads me in front of a tall building, presumably his home, in complete silence. I followed him to the second story, third door on the left. Apartments. So he can't afford a house, or he just dislikes them. Already my mind is reeling on who he is, what he wants, and how he achieved his earlier feat.

"sit" he commands me again, pointing on the couch which was placed in the middle of the living room. I eyed it for a second, the deep red loveseat looked comfortable enough. My eyes wandered to his, ensuring I had permission. He nodded, a very slight downward movement of his head, but it was enough for me. Slowly I lowered myself onto the couch, sitting on the end furthest from him, and coincidentally closest to the floor to ceiling window which was on my left.

"I will ask questions, I want one word answers. Understood?" he moves to stand in front of me, a respectable distance away, but close enough to seem vaguely invasive. He towered over me, leaning forward, deep brown eyes staring into my blue ones.

"yes" i reply, one word answers it is, if that's what I need to do to get out of here, I think I can contain my verbal diarrhea for long enough. I hope. Please God let me remember to answer one worded.

"how old are you?"

"20"

"Education?"

"college"

"degree?"

"politics", at this answer he seems to smile, or well, smirk, but it quickly drops to his serious mask again.

"can you fight?", why would I need to fight? I feel my heart beating out an inhuman rhythm. None of these questions were personal per se, they were just what you'd ask at speed dating. Age, occupation, hobbies. Was this some sort of sick matchmaking? Was a camera going to pop out of somewhere soon, along with my "perfect match"?

"karate" i quickly reply, realising my internal monologue was angering Mr. Weird-ass-kidnapper.

"how good are you at it?"

"black belt" again he smirks.

He turns his back, clasps his hands together pinky pointing at me, and seems to stand there thinking for a

bit, before muttering something that sounds a lot like "you'll do", turning around and ordering me to follow him again. I do so, without any hesitation this time. So far he hadn't harmed me, why would he now? It's messed up logic, I know, but I mean, what else had I left? I was locked in this apartment, with this... This... Madman.

His back came to a stop in front of a white door, pristine condition. Not even slight dark fingerprints are visible on the paint, as if it was just left like that after painting. He opens it, a bath shower combination visible in the back, he lead me to the bathroom. Really?

"shower, leave your clothes by the door" he says and steps aside, arm out indicating that I enter. Fuck no. That's my first thought. Never in my entire life have I felt as helpless and disgusted by own actions, as I stepped into the bathroom and began to undress. He hasn't even closed the door fully, and I haven't considered to close it myself. I was commanded to enter, undress and shower. Nothing else. I couldn't find the strength in me to turn around and see if he at least has the decency to look away. Something told me he didn't. I saw myself fold the clothes, and place them by the now closed door. It opened into the corridor, so he wouldn't have any trouble to grab them and make a run for it.

Maybe this was just a prank.

Maybe I blacked out in that alleyway and this is some drugged up hallucination.

Maybe... I don't know. I don't know what else this could possibly be. I attempt to form coherent thoughts, and as time passes, dictated by the pitter patter of the water running down my naked flesh, they become significantly more MINE. So time apart made his control weaker, or maybe it was the fact that we are a significant distance apart? Just as I began to think, and I mean properly think, a knock echoed through the bathroom, shocking me out of my mind and back to reality.

"finish" his voice called, and as soon as he spoke the first tone to me I felt my thoughts melt away, replaced by a constant echo within my mind, repeating his command over and over. Pull yourself together, I reprimand myself. My hand flies to my cheek, a satisfying wet splash resonating around the bare room, the stinging begins a few seconds later. Well at least I can think now. Still, I decide to follow his demand and stop the water, the cold air quickly replacing the warm water that was just lazily running down my body. I must say though the shower wasn't one I wanted, it was still nice to feel clean and fresh. He even had a mango scented body wash. My favourite.

Reaching for the towel, I notice that my clothes are gone. Now, they aren't just gone, but they were replaced. Just as that thought hits home I hear laughter bouncing around the room. Not the happy kind. Oh no. It's rapid, dumb giggles, hysteria shaking my body. This has to be some elaborate joke. And i will kill whoever came up with this.

Surely this can't be it, can it? It can't be real. This is too mental to be real. Mind control can't exist. It can't. Can it?

Ok, breathe, in and out, slowly. Calmly. Another bout of histeric laughter shakes me as I imagine what else is in store. Maybe next he'll tell me he's always loved me? Or, more likely, he'll bind me to a chair and have his way with me, then probably get rid of the evidence. Read, me. I attempt to calm myself once more, taking a deep breath through my mouth and, and exhaling slowly through my nose.

Worst reaction to stress ever, laughter. I know, some people panic, others fight, some run. I laugh. God I'm fucked, ain't I?

I grab the clothing, he had even replaced my underwear, what a gent. I liked that bra, bloody hell. A black lace two piece lay on the top, somehow exactly my size. Though I hate the idea of wearing something he chose, I can't exactly run out of there naked. Well, I can, but I won't. I'd rather die.

The reflection in the mirror is not me. It cannot be. I have never looked this good in merely a set of underwear, no matter how often my friends told me otherwise. This shit is magic.

It has to be.

God I cannot do this, I cannot admit this.

No.

But the more I look at the girl in the mirror, brown hair a wet mess, makeup washed off, blue eyes piercing but holy shit.

I look good.

There, I admitted it.

Happy?

I'm sure he bloody is.

I rip my eyes off the reflection, the rest of the outfit still nearly folded on the counter to my right. A navy blue dress, office type, but still figure hugging. That's what h chose for me. What is this? Does he have a sexy secretary fetish or something? I slip the dark blue material on, one again marveling at the reflection that was clearly me, but somehow really wasn't. Another impatient knock reminded me of my situation, and I quickly stepped outside, my hands on my hair attempting to tame the half dry waves into a semi-acceptable bun. As soon as my hands fell to my sides, dark brown eyes gazed at my attire, scrutinising every inch of me, his serious face unfaltering. For reasons unknown to me, I search for eye contact, for something in his face that'll tell me that he approves, that I did well.

His ever so slight nod floods me with relief. "good" he states, his chocolate coloured eyes now turning the same gaze to mine, "very good" he nods again, hands clasped behind his back, almost like a soldier at ease. "from now on you will be my secretary, my pa, my cook, cleaner, henchman. You will be whatever I need you to be. No questions, no mistakes."

This is like kidnapping, but worse. It's kidnapping and slavery, but I can't decline. God only knows what will happen to me if I even so much as think "no".

"do you have family here?" he suddenly asks. Now he thinks of my family? Really!?

"yes" I snap. And i know my family is expecting me home an hour ago, they'll get suspicious pretty soon.

"wear this", the ring is on my finger before I can think to say Stop. I look at it, it's a simple silver band, but it tingles where it touches my skin. It's not painful or anything, just, funny. Not really pins and needles, but close enough I suppose.

"now. Down to business" he claps his hands, snapping my attention back to him. "you will hear people refer to me as Harold Saxon." he pivots on his heel, balancing back and forth, "Don't every call me that." his toes click onto the ground with some force, the bang enforcing his point, making it crystal clear he meant what he said, "you, my dear, are to call me Master."

Ugh, S&M too? What else?

He must have noticed my disgust, as a smirk spread on his face, eyes glinting with pure mischief. I must admit, if not for the circumstances I would say that look suited him very well. "do you understand?"

"yes" I nod my head once. However that doesn't seem enough to him.

"yes, who?" he asks, his face leaning in just close enough to make me squirm.

"yes, master"

He just smiles in reply, that evil smirk of his, that is both incredibly scary and impossibly sexy.

Wait. Did i just really think that this madman smirk is sexy? Jesus. Im messed up. I really am.

"follow me" I hear him say over his shoulder, already marching to the apartment door and opening it, again signalling for me to go ahead. If anything at least he isn't mind controlling me anymore, I have my own thoughts, my own actions and decisions. He leads me outside, and I stay on his right, a step behind, careful never to be even with him and much less ahead of him. He seems to have a kink for power, and I'm not about to challenge him. Absent-minded I play with the silver band on my right ring finger. Where I'm from thats where your wedding band should go, but you Brits are weird. Somewhere in me i know I'm enjoying this whole situation. If he can get away with this, what else can he do? What can he let me do?

"... In return" I hear his voice, snapping me out of my thoughts. Did I do something wrong? I quickly check my position, no, I'm ok. My hair? No that's fine.

"I'm sorry?" i know it's a bad idea to ask him to repeat, but he seems surprisingly happy to.

"what do you want in return of your work?" oh. Oh Thats what he meant. What _do_ I want in return?

"freedom" I state, and quickly realise my mistake as his eyes harden, "not that kind of freedom. You just got away with this" I signal between us, "without any reprocussion, it's left me to wonder what else you can do. How come my family won't recognise me? This ring, it does that, doesn't it? Youre not human, are you? Whatever, I don't care who or what you are. You just displayed fairly clearly you can get away with murder. I want in. I want to learn how to do that." verbal diarrhea incoming. Fuck. Did i just say too much? Everything I said is clear, right?

"Deal" I hear his voice through my hands, which I used to hide my face I'm embarrassment. Deal?

I mean, I'm happy, but am I really ready for this? I don't know. Time will tell.

It's been an interesting few weeks that I had with the Master. At first I had been sickened by the acts he committed, but also excited to see what else he could do. I mean, the board meeting with the gas, God, you shouldve seen the looks on their faces! Especially when I brought in a silver platter, two gas masks underneath the equally polished lid.

In that time I had switched from secretary, to PA, to secret office romance (we had to give Mr Saxon a human aspect of course, and what is more exciting than the future prime minister having an affair?) gossip tabloids were exploding with speculation! It was glorious, so much attention on the two of us. Of course his "wife" wasn't impressed, even threatened me. HA. She threatened me, can you believe it?

Well that situation was dealt with, anyways.

Jesus, you are dark, aren't you? I didn't kill her, jeez. I just let her know who I am, in a slightly uncomfortable way. Well, she couldnt even lift her head for a few Weeks, oh I had some fun with her. The master just told me not to kill her.

Now I'm just standing in front of a blue police box, that I'm almost 100% certain wasn't here before. Something about this box seems familiar, but yet my brain doesn't seem to connect it to anything ive seen so far. The Telefone is dead, I did check, though im unsure what I expected. As steps approach from behind, I turn around and wait to see who it is. A tall man appears, walking straight at the Blue box, along with a dark skinned girl. He had messy, floppy hair, but his face looked like he just ate a sour lemon.

"oh, hello there!" he immediately perks up as he sees me. I merely quirk a brow, the girl much more cautious to approach me than him. Smart gal.

"hello" i reply in a clipped tone. He observes me for a bit longer, then steps closer, hand outstretched.

"im the doctor, and this is Martha Jones" he smiles, and if it's possible my eyebrow raises higher. Another man without name, but with a title. I reach out my right hand to his, and shake it briefly.

"Kat" I introduce myself, "but you're to call me Chaos"

Now its his turn to raise his eyebrows, his mouth dropping into a small O.

"oh. Oh" he laughs, but none of it reaches hs eyes, "oh I get it now! Clever one, he is. Oh he's so clever. You're chaos, did he name you that? Oh he must have" he drops the laugh as quickly as he picked it up, I merely tilt my head to the side, waiting for more from this peculiar man. "he's dangerous you know, the man you serve, what's he go by now? Harold... Saxon? Yeah,that was it, he's dangerous kat-"

"chaos" I correct him.

"chaos. I dont know what he promised you, but he won't hold his word. He'll achieve what he wants and then he'll get rid of you. I can help you, let me help you. Ive known this man longer than you can even imagine, he doesn't change, he doesn't care about you, he doesn't love you, he's using you to achieve what he wants and then he'll toss you aside like a rag doll. Please, you have to believe me." halfway through that entire monologue I began to giggle, but now it's a full blown laugh.

"oh my God, you're so funny" I manage to squeeze out between breaths, "you actually think I love him? Oh God" I laugh again, this time it's a forced, cold chuckle. "oh Doctor, you're hilarious" I spit. "I don't love Master" I almost shout the lie, of course I developed something for him in the past few weeks, I wouldn't call it love yet, but it's more than a mere master/sub relationship. I mean, he killed a guy simply for flirting with me! That's more than just possessiveness, right? "And he hasn't promised me anything. He is my freedom. He is letting me fulfil my dream!" I open my arms, taunting him to tackle me, "you are so naive, for someone who claims to know someone longer than I begin to imagine, you must be equally old, and yet you are so naive. Like a child" I let a manic grin stretch my face, "he is enabling me to do whatever I want to whoever I want, he's teaching me, he's my mentor, my dream, my Master"

Both of the people across from me now stare wide eyed, the doctor breathing heavy, a long sigh escaping his open lips.

"You're lost." he states slowly, arms up in defeat, or submission, the normally calming act aggravating me even more, does he really think I'm that mental? "you just lost your way, you were pushed off your way by him, I can help you go home, I can bring you back to your family"

Again, all I can do is laugh.

"family? What family? The family that never even realised I'm missing? The family that wanted me dead and gone so much they celebrated when I disappeared? I don't want _back_ to that family, I want them _Dead._ And I will achieve my goal, Doctor. And that isn't a warning." I walk forward, between the two people, my shoulder hitting off the doctors arm, but he makes no motion to indicate he noticed. As I'm several steps away, in what I assume to be a last attempt to sway me, I hear him shout

"he's not human, you know?" towards me. I merely smirk back, turning my head so he saw my profile.

"neither are you, doctor" with that I turn a corner, disappearing from his sight.


End file.
